On the right side of the ballroom, separated off by two square pillars, there was an area set aside specifically for the princesses’ ladies-in-waiting and their guardian knights.
The tables there were piled with plentiful food and drink, no different from what was served in the main hall, except that the tableware was of a slightly different style.
All the knights’ gazes were fixed on their own princess.
They were clearly trying to read from their princesses’ behavior how likely she was to become the prince’s future bride. After all, the princess’s prospects were tightly bound to the honor the knights would gain from this assignment.
If their princess was chosen to be the prince’s consort, then in the future, as knights who had once guarded the queen of Natiwoods, they would enjoy far more advantages when traveling among other nations.
Prince Tenny’s bride was certain to come from among these fifty… fifty‑one princesses.
The reflected glory that would fall upon the knight serving that lucky princess would also land on the Order of the Sword and Blood Rose.
Among comrades who saw each other day and night, that naturally stirred up a bit of competitive fighting spirit.
When they heard Lance talking with the newly arrived female knight, the other knights traded glances, slung their arms over each other’s shoulders, and sauntered up to butt into the conversation.
“Lance, don’t talk so big. No one knows yet whose hands that Firecloud Lark feather will end up in!”
“In the rumors, that magic bird is seriously cursed. It supposedly tempts anyone who lays eyes on it. They say even one look into its eyes is enough to strip you of your will to fight. You really think you can take on something like that alone?”
“Hey, maybe get the facts straight before you start bragging.”
Lance tilted his mouth into a roguish grin.
“The Firecloud Lark’s got only one plume of colorful feathers on its head. That means only one brooch can be made from it, and it can only be presented to one princess.
Most importantly, there can only be one prince’s bride.
Back when we did team missions, that was fine. But if we all go together and kill this magic bird now, maybe we can split the meat and bones. What about that feather? How are we supposed to divide that?
Are we supposed to settle it afterward with a duel?”
Another knight snorted.
“You think Captain Hilton doesn’t know about this already? Don’t assume that just because he spoils you, he’ll hand that feather over to you too.”
Lance folded his arms, lifted his chin, and said,
“I don’t want him to hand it to me. Fair competition. Hilton’s old; his bones are giving out. It’s about time he stepped down and let the worthy take over. I think this might be the perfect opportunity.”
Hilton, who was standing by the doors speaking with several officials, seemed to sense something and cast a glance over from afar.
Lance immediately stiffened up and turned his face toward the wall.
“I’ll be sure to pass your words along to our feeble and useless Captain Hilton… but don’t forget we also have a new lady knight.”
Another knight added,
“Lance, that bruise on your waist hasn’t healed yet, has it? And she’s right here. You still dare to brag? Planning to get flattened into the floor a second time?”
Leif said calmly,
“As for that feather, now that I know about it, I intend to claim it as well. I’ll bring it back to add to my princess’s glory. My resolve is no weaker than any of yours.”
“But does your little princess even dare give you such a task?”
Lance turned toward Leif.
“Everyone knows her family background is terrible. Even the entrance security fee for getting into the capital was paid by someone else. I don’t even know if her homeland is qualified to award you a medal.”
“And you should know, that Firecloud Lark stirs up people’s emotions.
Women are creatures ruled by their feelings. If she falls into the bird’s illusion, if the flames show her the thing she desires most and she sinks too deep to escape, she’ll lose her life there and then.
You’d better go back and pick up a needle and thread and sew your princess a new dress instead. You’d have better odds of success with that.”
Leif stared hard at Lance for a long moment. Her pure black eyes were dark and unfathomable.
Just when Lance thought she was going to step forward and start a fight, the brown‑haired knight only said softly,
“Thank you.”
Then she picked up a goblet filled with plain water and walked toward the lady‑in‑waiting standing to the side.
Lance watched her back, baffled.
Had he heard wrong? What on earth was she thanking him for?
Leif clicked her tongue quietly.
In the Boris Residence, information had its own hierarchy of directions and speeds.
Naturally, Leif was thanking Lance for the massive amount of information he had just handed her.
News of the Firecloud Lark had clearly been leaked to them by nobles of Natiwoods, probably hoping to use this grand event and the hands of the knight order to get rid of a blight in the city and win favor before the prince.
At the same time, they could ingratiate themselves with the future princess—one of these princesses who would become the new queen.
Obviously, that Firecloud Lark feather would end up in the hands of a powerful princess.
Currying favor on both sides was an excellent bargain.
This was the first time Leif had heard anything about the Firecloud Lark, while the other knights seemed to have known for quite a while. She could not help sighing inwardly at how quiet things were around Princess Boris.
What happened after she moved into the residence was something Leif had not expected at all:
It turned out that petty troublemakers had senses as sharp as the most politically attuned nobles of Natiwoods.
The three most high‑profile princesses were facing assassination attempts, thefts, poisonings, and the like almost every day, fainting at an average rate of three times a day.
Because of that, the knights attending them were constantly busy, building up a good tally of achievements. This must have been what the officials had warned about when they arranged the assignments—“unexpected incidents” that might occur over these two months.
By contrast, Leif, who served the utterly invisible Princess Boris, was just as invisible herself.
The only thing she used her machete for every day was to chop up unfortunate rats, cockroaches, flies, and mosquitoes in the room.
Still, there were benefits: it honed her accuracy, and Princess Boris slept much better with fewer pests.
The princess, who already slept soundly, had been looking even more rosy‑cheeked lately. She practically glowed without needing any powder or rouge.
As for the idle knight short on physical labor, in the past few days she had already memorized several chapters of that book, Records of the Glorious Knights of the Twelve Temples (Volume 8).
But the more she read, the more the heart of a knight within her burned with the desire to fight.
The lady‑in‑waiting, hand over her mouth and hiding in the corner, asked pitifully in a small voice,
“Lady Knight, can I speak now?”
When Lance and the other knights had come over earlier, Leif had noticed the frankly suggestive looks they cast at the lady‑in‑waiting.
Those hot‑blooded, fully fledged knights nearly had their eyeballs pop out of their heads when they saw a pretty young maid.
The lady‑in‑waiting, however, came from the same country as Princess Boris. She was timid and shy.
In front of those big, burly men, she was like a trembling little rabbit in a tiger’s jaws.
Leif’s protective instincts flared at once.
She stepped forward, putting herself in front of the lady‑in‑waiting, cutting off all their gazes. Then she tilted her head and said to the girl,
“This is a matter between knights. Don’t get involved. Hide in the bushes—just hide somewhere off to the side and be quiet. Don’t speak.”
And so the lady‑in‑waiting obediently shut her mouth and shrank into the corner.
Now Leif answered,
“Of course you can. Sorry, I zoned out for a moment.”
Hearing that, the lady‑in‑waiting finally lowered the hand covering her mouth and said anxiously,
“Lady Knight, why did you agree to go and kill that Firecloud Lark? It’s so dangerous. I was just about to stop you…”
In the glittering, gilded ballroom, the clinking of cups and mingling of wine lasted until midnight before the nobles and princesses slowly dispersed.
The hall was left a mess of cups and plates.
On the dozen‑meter‑long banquet table, silver cutlery and glass goblets lay scattered, some toppled, some tilted.
Half‑eaten fruit platters, roasted beef bones with meat still clinging to them, and unfinished desserts and pastries were dumped into massive slop barrels by the palace servants cleaning up.
The night carried a faint chill.
The rainy season had not yet ended. The night wind, laced with fine drizzle, struck the skin like tiny ice awls.
The air was filled with the faint, fermenting freshness of greenery. In the broad courtyard outside the hall, tiny pale‑purple bellflowers pushed up from the cracks between the paving stones, each holding up its small, swollen star‑shaped head. They swayed in the night wind, as if trying to dodge the raindrops.
As Princess Boris stepped out, the lady‑in‑waiting draped a thin cloak, prepared in advance, over her bare shoulders.
“Princess, are you all right?”
Boris shook her head. Her gray eyes glanced back at the ballroom doors slowly swinging shut.
She was clearly dejected that, although she had brushed past Prince Tenny just now, he had not noticed her at all.
“What a shame. I didn’t get to speak with the prince.”
The brown‑haired knight stepped in front of Boris, bowed, and said,
“Please, Your Highness, assign me a task.”
“Leif?”
Princess Boris gave her a puzzled look, not understanding why Leif was suddenly volunteering.
“What task?”
So the brown‑haired knight told the princess about the Firecloud Lark.
She did not fully believe such a feather truly existed—one that could make people fall hopelessly in love at the sight of it.
But if she killed that magic bird, at the very least it would force the prince to notice Princess Boris.
The poor princess had absolutely no presence right now. She at least needed a chance to stand before him, or she would have no hope at all.
“To make the one you love willingly fall in love with you…”
Boris blinked, clearly tempted. She looked at the brown‑haired, black‑eyed knight, took her by the wrist, and helped her to her feet.
“But Leif, it’s a magic bird. That’s too dangerous.
And if it’s survived in Natiwoods for so many years without being hunted down, it must be terrifyingly powerful.”
Leif said,
“I don’t think I will necessarily lose.”
“But…”
Boris frowned and thought for a moment. Her gray eyes met the brown‑haired knight’s black ones.
“All right, Leif, I understand how you feel. But you don’t have to do this for me. First you paid the entrance fee for me, and now you want to go kill a magic bird for my sake… I really have nothing to give you in return…”
“From the day I became your knight, Your Highness, your wish became my wish. Your joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness became mine as well.
Your happiness is the best reward I could ever ask for. What more would I need?”
Leif spoke solemnly.
“You care for Prince Tenny. If I can do nothing for you, I would be an unqualified knight. Please give me your command.”
—
In the blink of an eye, Leif had already been in the city of Tim in Natiwoods for seven days.
As usual, the knight order held a meeting once a week to summarize the past week’s work and plan the next. The venue was the same council chamber where assignments had first been given.
Same place, same eighteen tall Doric columns, same dark carpet, same raised platform at the front.
But this time, standing on the dais opposite the doors was not a Natiwoods official, but the captain of the knights, Hilton.
After the last meeting, responsibility for the safety of all the princesses in the residence had been handed over fully to the knight order.
Hilton had a head of brown hair that refused to lie flat no matter how it was combed, short and wild atop his head like a male lion’s mane.
His eyes, the same brown as his hair, were deeply set, giving him a strikingly intense gaze. Now, those eyes watched the stream of people filing through the chamber doors.
The knights had taken temporary leave of their charges and gathered in the council chamber during the two‑hour lunch break.
Because the captain had taken the dais, the other knights’ positions shifted up one rank according to their standing in the order.
When Leif stepped into the final gap at the back, they again formed two neat, symmetrical blocks of five rows of five on either side.
Since this was only the regular weekly internal meeting, no one was wearing the heavy ceremonial armor. Everyone came in casual attire, but their expressions were extremely serious—at least at the start of the meeting.
“Everyone’s here already. Ahem.”
Looking at the tidy, symmetrical ranks before him, a trace of satisfaction crossed Hilton’s face. He rubbed his slightly reddened nose and sneezed.
“Good. One by one, report what you’ve done this week.”
Starting with Lance, the knights each stepped forward and described their completed tasks.
They spoke of treasures stolen from their princesses and recovered after great effort; of assassins who had attempted to strike and been thwarted; of how many times their princess had fainted, and so on.
When it was finally Leif’s turn, she had nothing to say.
In the end, she could not bring herself to report how many bugs she had chopped up with her blade that day as “missions completed.”
Hilton seemed to catch the hint of frustrated embarrassment on the brown‑haired knight’s face.
“This is a good thing,” he said. “Not letting your princess be frightened is more important than any merit you could earn. You must all remember that.”
He swept a sharp gaze over the others.
“You lot have made quite a splash. Feeling pleased and proud now, aren’t you—especially you, Lance. Your princess showered you with rewards. Feeling very smug?”
Lance, standing at the very front and not quite sure how he had got singled out, curled his lip.
“I’ve told you so many times: you must prevent trouble before it happens.
The hearts of noble princesses are fragile. Once they’re hurt, it’s hard to mend them.
You actually dare let them faint that many times—don’t you feel ashamed?”
The knights all lowered their heads, looking appropriately repentant.
But the occasional glint in certain eyes showed they did not fully agree with Hilton.
“Next agenda item.
As a knight order, the Sword and Blood Rose has endured for a hundred years without disbanding. Generations of members have come and gone, yet the order still stands. What holds us together is one thing—our spirit. Unity, fellowship, and harmony.”
Hilton flipped a page in the booklet in his hand, then let his gaze settle on Lance again.
“I hear you’ve repeatedly picked fights with the new member, spoken to her improperly, and even hinted more than once that you wanted to duel her.”
Lance, named for the second time, straightened up to show he was listening.
“Yes, sir.”
“Even if Leif is only a temporary member, as long as she is part of this group, you will treat her as your own sister.
Lance, stay behind after we adjourn.”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right, next matter. Many of you already know about the Firecloud Lark. Here’s my decision: we will move out as a full unit tomorrow…”
Lance said seriously,
“But Captain, when the time comes, we won’t be holding back just because you’re the captain.”
“You brats. Where did you hear about the Firecloud Lark? From nobles?”
Hilton flipped the pages of his booklet so hard they rustled.
“They talk like they know everything. But have any of them actually explored the Firecloud Lark’s nest?
If that bird were really something you pups could stab to death with a few swings, do you think it would still be sitting comfortably in its lair?”
Hilton coughed, his expression turning stern.
“I’ve heard some of you are already planning to sneak off alone and explore the nest. That kind of recklessness is just throwing your lives away.
I don’t care if you die in the Firecloud Lark’s beak—but what about the honor of the order? What about the safety of the princesses?”
“Prince Tenny heard of this and has already sent me what information there is on the Firecloud Lark.
To kill it, you must pass two trials. The first layer requires at least a hundred people to activate. Otherwise, you’ll only be able to fight a phantom of the bird.
Once you reach the second layer, because of the bird’s well‑known powers, at least two people must form a team if they want any chance at success.”
The knights exchanged glances.
They were all former teammates, but they were also rivals.
Never mind that the first layer needed a hundred people. Even if it only took fifty, none of them were willing to team up with the knights standing beside them right now.
Fortunately, the princesses they served had brought along attendants whose strength was not negligible, so forming parties would not be too difficult.
Leif, however, was in trouble.
The two attendants with Princess Boris were an old coachman with just one tooth left in his mouth, and a clerk so weak he could not wring a chicken’s neck, even skinnier than the lady‑in‑waiting.
—
The next day, outside the ruined palace in the western suburbs of Tim.
Before them rose the charred remains of what had once been a garden. Although many years had passed, the outlines of its former grandeur were still faintly visible.
This had once been the royal palace of Natiwoods—a magnificent complex—until a fire a hundred years ago destroyed it.
The shell of the ruined palace still stood, but the inside had been burned hollow.
None of the royals inside at the time survived. That calamity had plunged the once‑mighty Natiwoods into instant chaos.
And from that unnaturally strange blaze had been born a magic bird, sending a new chill of terror through the nation.
Fortunately, one prince had been away from the palace then.
He soon gathered the people’s hearts, quelled internal unrest and foreign threats, and rebuilt the royal residence.
No one had dared go near the old palace site since. People said that at midnight, you could hear the wails of restless ghosts.
The magic bird born in that fire only added to the horror.
As Tim gradually expanded eastward, the ruins to the west had grown more and more desolate.
Recently, the Firecloud Lark’s cry had become particularly shrill, as if carrying a curse. Many suspected the old king’s illness was tied to the creature’s call.
Of course, this was baseless rumor. Those close to the king and his physicians knew his sickness came from overwork and battlefield injuries.
But the official explanation could not stop the public’s imagination from running wild.
Today, however, a crowd filled the area before the ruins.
Prince Tenny’s carriage had arrived.
Slaying a magic bird clearly interested him more than hosting a ball, so he had come early.
Many citizens had gathered as well, drawn by the beloved prince’s presence.
Following behind the prince’s procession was the knight order led by Hilton.
He held a massive banner. On its bright‑red field was painted a mighty sword and a blooming rose branch, crossing in a cruciform. Around them ran a ring engraved with the eight knightly virtues: “Humility, Righteousness, Mercy, Courage, Justice, Sacrifice, Honor, Soul.”
Behind Hilton came fifty knights on tall warhorses, along with the comrades who would join them in this dangerous venture.
When Hilton swept the banner down, the knights behind him dismounted in unison.
The onlookers lifted their heads, taking in one strong, youthful face after another.
But at the very end of the line, two figures, though dressed in men’s clothes, were clearly young women.
Leif had ultimately had no choice but to bring the lady‑in‑waiting with her.
That was thanks to Princess Boris’s earnest recommendation.
The little princess had said that although this girl who grew up with her was terrified of cockroaches and such, her father was a sacred exorcist who slew demons.
From childhood she had been steeped in that craft and inherited her father’s true skills. She would be a great help to the knight.
Leif did not quite believe it, but she had no other options, so she brought the girl along.
Before entering the ruins, she told the lady‑in‑waiting,
“If anything dangerous happens, hide behind me.”
